


Kids in the Kitchen

by Gallons_of_the_Stuff



Series: Camp Hogwarts Challenge [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Challenges, Family, Gen, Humor, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 21:49:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4365407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gallons_of_the_Stuff/pseuds/Gallons_of_the_Stuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The three Potter children decide to make their parents breakfast in bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kids in the Kitchen

**Author's Note:**

> One-shot written for the Camp Hogwarts Challenge and The Kitchen Challenge of the Hogwarts Houses Challenges forum on FF.net. 
> 
> Prompt: Pottery - write about the Next-Gen making something for their parents.
> 
> Time for children cooking, sibling antics, and the results.
> 
> Disclaimer: Sadly, I am not JKR. If I was, I would have kept this for publication in an actual book, rather than online.

"The fish eggs, if you please, Assistant Lily," James said without looking up from the 'cauldron' where he mixed his ingredients – the 'potion' required the utmost focus. Likewise, he paid no attention to the stifled giggles of his 'assistants' as the bowl of 'fish eggs' was placed in his outstretched hand.

Instead, he concentrated on stirring the dark blue orbs into the light colored mix, careful not to break them as he did so. After a moment of careful folding, he smiled, picking up the bowl and turning to sit it by the… for a moment, his mind blanked on what to call the piece of equipment necessary in the next step, because there was no  _magical_  name for it, before finally – irritably – settling on simply naming it what it was: the griddle. Though disappointed in this interruption to his mental game, James smothered a sigh and held out his hand.

"Ladle, Assistant Albus," he commanded his brother. The younger boy could be heard rummaging through a drawer for the proper tool before he dropped it into his elder brother's hand with a satisfying smack. "Now the fire," James continued as he dipped the ladle into the 'potion' and carefully measured out the exact amount needed.

However, his preparations were interrupted as a younger voice said, "Um, James…"

"Potions Master James, Assistant Albus."

"Right. Potions Master James… we're not supposed to use the stove without Mum or Dad's help…"

James whipped his head around, taking his eyes off his 'potion' for the first time since they started, and glared at his younger brother. "It's supposed to be a  _surprise_  for them, Al," he hissed, bending down to look his brother in the eye – the step made it easier to work at the counter, but it made him a lot taller than his two siblings. "And it can't very well be a  _surprise_ , if we have one of them in here  _with_ us, can it?"

A bit of mutiny entered Albus's expression (James liked that word,  _mutiny_  – he'd learned it last week from Uncle George), but the older boy stared him down until Al looked away and grumbled his agreement. Straightening with a smirk – his little brother wasn't much for rule-breaking, but James could convince him when it was worth it – he turned back to the 'potion'. "The fire, please, Assistant Albus."

This time his brother turned on the stove, allowing James to continue his work. He let the griddle heat for a few moments before carefully pouring the potion – ah, he ought to give it up now, oughtn't he? The effect was pretty well ruined – the  _batter_  onto the hot surface.

All should have gone well from there. James had made pancakes with his parents dozens of times. He knew exactly when he was supposed to flip them – wait until the bubbles popped all around the edges, then slide the spatula under and turn them over. Simple. Easy.

Only when he tried to slide the spatula under the pancake… it didn't work. When he tried to force it, all he managed to do was rip the part that had cooked and make a mess of the whole thing, pushing it across the pan. Confused, he did not move for a second – what had he done wrong?

" _James_! It's burning!"

Albus's warning hiss brought him out of his daze and a moment of frantic scraping later, the burned pancake was off the edge of the griddle, smoking slightly on the stove top. James didn't object when his younger brother turned off the eye, too busy going over everything in his head, trying to figure out what had gone wrong, only to have Al give him the answer.

"You forgot the non-stick spell. Mum always uses a non-stick spell."

James rounded on his brother again. "I can't do a non-stick spell!" he exclaimed, just barely remembering to keep his voice down so the argument wouldn't wake their parents. Al looked mutinous – James really liked that word; it described his brother's facial expressions so well – as he crossed his arms and glared. "You need a wand for that! So what do you want me to do, genius?"

"What about Muggles?"

In unison, the two boys turned their eyes to their sister, who stared back at them, utterly immune to their bickering.

"What do you mean, Lily?" asked James.

"Muggles don't have wands. So what do they use?" responded Lily, her voice the kind of calm only a six-year-old could manage.

James blinked and turned his head to look back at Albus, who appeared as startled at the common sense question as he was. "Do you know?" he asked, but Al shook his head 'no'.

"Maybe we can call someone?" the younger Potter suggested. The elder took a moment to consider that, then hopped off the step and headed for the rarely-used phone.

Five minutes of hushed conversation over the Muggle device later and their breakfast surprise was back on course, James having dropped a bit of butter on the griddle, pushing it around on the heated surface to melt it. This time, the pancake flipped perfectly, causing grins of triumph to flash across the three children's faces.

In using up the batter, they made over two dozen pancakes – every single one went onto a single large plate, along with the rest of the blueberries (formerly called 'fish eggs'), set on a tray with two glasses of milk, two of orange juice, a bottle of syrup, a measure of whipped cream, and two sets of silverware. Then ensued another – very brief – argument: Lily wanted to carry the tray.

"But you're too little!"

"Yeah, Lily, you're not strong enough to carry the whole thing upstairs."

"If you don't let me carry it, I'll cry."

The two boys glanced at each other, then focused their gazes back on their sister.

Lily carried the tray up the stairs, James and Albus hovering anxiously around her, holding the cups. Thankfully, they made it without incident to their parents' bedroom.

Dad was already sitting up on the side of the bed and smiled at them when they came through the door, but Mum was still buried under the covers, only her red hair visible.

"We made breakfast!" Lily said proudly.

"I see," Dad said with another smile for Lily, but a knowing look for the two boys – they'd broken the rules and James knew their father would fuss at them for it later, but for now they had a free pass, thanks to Lily's enthusiasm. The oldest boy couldn't hide his grin.

Reaching out, Dad nodded to their mother's figure, saying "Why don't you wake up Mum?" to Lily as he took the tray. Lily grinned and darted around the bed to do as asked.

"Did you burn anything?" Dad asked James and Albus quietly as their sister poked and prodded and 'gently' woke Mum up.

"One pancake. That's it," Al answered before his older brother could respond – well, there went hiding the evidence and acting as if everything went perfectly. Eh – Dad smiled, so he guessed it wasn't too much trouble.

"I want you two to have everything cleaned up by the time your mum and I come downstairs."

"Yes sir," the two boys answered, grinning – it wasn't so bad, as far as punishments went. James could think of worse things their father could have told them to do.

By then, Mum was sitting up and had turned to take the tray from Dad. "Blueberries!" she said, making all three kids smile. "My favorite."

"We know, Mum. That's why we made them." Satisfaction was clear in Albus's voice.

Dad took the cups, setting the orange juices and one milk on the nightstand while he sipped from the other. All of them watched as Mum picked up one of the pancakes and rolled it – what an odd way to eat a pancake, James thought; she didn't even bother with the syrup – and took a bite, humming with her eyes closed. That was a good sign!

Then she coughed, opened her eyes and reached for Dad's glass of milk, a funny look on her face. Dad was already in the process of taking a bite of a different pancake when Mum took his drink, letting it go with a frown – but then he coughed too, and grabbed the other milk off the nightstand.

After Mum swallowed, she smiled at them again, but James thought it looked a little… odd. "It's delicious!" she said. Dad coughed again, nodding, then said in slightly choked voice, "Why don't you three head downstairs and start cleaning up the kitchen? We'll be down when we finish our breakfast."

"Okay!" Lily said, oblivious to the strange looks on their parents' faces, and darted out the door. Albus smiled and followed, but James lingered for a second.

"You really like it?" he asked cautiously.

He was only somewhat mollified by the prompt nods and his father's assurance, "It's quite good, actually. You did well."

"Okay… well, I guess I'll go help clean up then," James said before following his siblings down the stairs.

As soon as they were certain their children were out of earshot, Harry and Ginny tossed the pancakes back on the pile with relieved sighs.

"Ugh, those are just… awful," Ginny said, half laughing.

Equally amused and disgusted, Harry chuckled, "I think they must have gotten the salt and the sugar confused."

"I'll say!"

For a moment, they laughed together about their children's mistake. Harry vanished the pancakes when they had collected themselves, then the pair ate the unaffected blueberries and drank the provided beverages at a leisurely pace – it wasn't as if their children would be finished cleaning anytime soon. Really, the uninterrupted alone time was one of the best things the three could have given them.


End file.
